


Making the Connection

by teknical_difficulties



Series: Heroes of Hatchetfield AU [2]
Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid
Genre: 'i can make my hands warm to hold my gf's hand when it's cold out', Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, i SWEAR i'll write some actual action and superhero fights for this au soon, i just wanted to write about emma and tim okay, one day i'll be able to write tim with a consistent personality, paul said 'yeah my powers have practical real life applications', superhero or not emma's a cool aunt, today is not that day, tw for a brief mention of terrorism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28528758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teknical_difficulties/pseuds/teknical_difficulties
Summary: Paul accidentally learns of Emma's connection to the recently deceased superhero Haywire during his first visit to the Houston household.
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins, Tim Houston & Emma Perkins
Series: Heroes of Hatchetfield AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081343
Comments: 16
Kudos: 31





	Making the Connection

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't already done so, I recommend you read Answer the Call, the first one-shot in this series. Some stuff that might not make sense here is elaborated upon in that fic. Enjoy!

Three months. It had been three months since Paul discovered that the Beanies barista he'd been so smitten with was also Wild Flower, the big new superhero in Hatchetfield who'd come to his aid during a battle with the electrically eccentric Madbolt. Three months since he learned her real name, Emma Perkins. Three months since they'd _properly_ partnered up to fight crime together, stopping a group of the villainous Bullet Burn's flunkies from bombing the Nantucket Bridge that connects Hatchetfield and Clivesdale. Three months since he took her on a late night flight date over Hatchetfield, where they subsequently had their first kiss atop the Hatchetfield Natural History Museum's roof. Things had only gotten better since then. Emma had been introduced to Paul's mission control/support team- consisting of Paul's work friends Bill, Charlotte, Ted, Sylvia, and occasionally Bill's daughter Alice, and she was now _officially_ Paul's partner in crime... fighting. People were even beginning to recognize them as such, though Paul could've personally done _without_ all the speculation on their love life on Morning Cup 'O News.

Today was shaping up to be a very big day for the two, but not for the reasons you may be thinking. They _weren't_ about to stop a villainous scheme of apocalyptic proportions. No, today Paul would be meeting Emma's nephew Tim for the first time. Though honestly, the former option might've been _less_ nerve-wracking for Paul. Emma talked about Tim frequently, and Paul _really_ wanted the kid to like him. Especially since he and Emma's brother-in-law Tom were apparently her only family left. He learned rather quickly that her older sister Jane had died about a year ago. The fact that she'd trusted him with that info so _soon_ after they started dating was a pretty major deal to Paul, and he did _not_ want to mess things up. So they were driving down a cute little suburban road on a chilly Autumn day, slowly but surely making their way to the residence of Tom Houston. Paul sat in the passenger seat, anxiously tapping his fists together while Emma drove.

"You okay, babe?" Emma chimed in after a long period of silence, having apparently noticed his nervousness.

"Yeah, I'm just..." Paul muttered in reply, pausing to think of the right word to say. Being Starfall _may_ have boosted his confidence by a fair amount, but he was still an anxious mess most of the time. "...worried about what Tim'll think of me."

Emma shot him a quick glance, soft and reassuring. "It'll be okay, Paul, Tim's not exactly hard to please," she said, punctuating her statement with a small huff of laughter. "After all, even _before_ I told him I was Wild Flower, he still thought I was cool. And I'm the total fuck-up who refused to be a part of his life until only last year, so that's _gotta_ say something."

Despite Emma's casual tone, Paul still looked over at her with concern. "Hey, you're not a fuck-up!" he exclaimed. A small smile snuck it's way onto his face. "You're a hero."

Emma playfully rolled her eyes, but still clearly struggled to stifle the grin that was threatening to spread across her cheeks. "What gave it away, this morning's newspaper headlines on how we stopped that ferry full of tourists from sinking just last evening?" she teased.

"Emma, I mean it," Paul pressed, determined to not let her devalue herself. "You're certainly _my_ hero."

Despite her stubbornly valiant effort to suppress it, a bashful smile broke out across Emma's face, much to Paul's satisfaction. Anything he did that made her smile or laugh counted as a victory in his book. Emma cleared her throat. "So, uh..." she began awkwardly. "You planning on telling Tim that you're Starfall, or...?"

"Not yet," Paul answered immediately. "I feel like if I tell him that during our first meeting, he'll feel pressured to like me. I want Tim to like me as _Paul_ , first and foremost."

Emma nodded. "Alright," she said, pulling the car into the driveway of a quaint little house. "We're here."

With a deep, shaky breath, Paul grabbed the backpacks containing their Starfall and Wild Flower costumes from the backseat of the car (which they brought with them _just in case_ ), and followed Emma outside. The frosty air washed over his face as he shut the door to the passenger seat, making Paul regret not wearing something heavier than his red sweater and a scarf. Thankfully, Paul's superpowers came with a built-in space heater. Normally, he only had to use it to send heat into his fists while morphing them into rocks, but Paul had discovered that he could control the exact temperature of his internal flame. So Paul sent a pulsing wave of warmth into his hands, which began to glow with a barely-noticeable blue light. As he and Emma walked up the path leading to the home of the Houstons, Paul took Emma's hand in his own. Not only to better hide the faint glimmer of light, but also just to warm her hand up a bit. Emma gave him an appreciative smile as she rang the doorbell, and the door was quickly answered by a burly looking bearded man in a red flannel.

"Hey, Tom." Emma greeted the man with an almost customer service-esque tone.

"Hey," the man- Tom apparently, said gruffly. His eyes flitted over to Paul, who felt himself shrink slightly under his steely gaze. "I take it this is the Peter guy you were tellin' me about?"

"Er, it's _Paul_ , actually..." Paul piped up sheepishly.

"Right," Tom huffed, as though he didn't really care either way. He turned to re-enter the house. "Well, Tim's upstairs in his room, you guys can wait in the living room while I go get him."

As the couple followed Tom inside, Emma turned to Paul with an uncomfortable look. Shutting the door behind them, she simply mouthed _'Yeah, I know'_ , and Paul immediately understood her meaning. Tom seemed pretty rough around the edges, though he supposed that's just what losing your wife would do to a guy. Though- Paul observed as he and Emma sat upon a worn leather couch, the house definitely had a _much_ cozier atmosphere than it's owner would have you think from his demeanor. Family photographs covered each wall, and the house smelled faintly of carved wood and maple-scented candles. But that did nothing to ease Paul's nerves as he heard two pairs of footsteps stomping down the stairs. Tom emerged from the stairwell, followed closely by a small boy- who couldn't have been any older than nine, with a mop of curly dirty-blonde hair on his head.

"Hey, Tim!" Emma called out, catching the boy's attention.

"Hi, Aunt Emma!" the boy greeted her, his brown eyes lighting up at the sight of his aunt.

The boy- presumably Tim, rushed over to hug Emma, who returned the embrace with a smile. As Tim pulled back from the hug, his gaze fell on Paul, who straightened his posture with a hopefully-friendly-but-probably-very-uncomfortable-looking grin.

"Oh Tim, this is Paul," Emma piped up, her eyes darting back and forth between the two as she answered her nephew's unspoken question. "He's my, uh.."

Paul hesitated to finish that sentence for her. Their relationship didn't really have a label yet. Though he wasn't sure a nine year old would really _care_ about that, he didn't want to make Emma uncomfortable. Sure, they'd been fighting crime together for a few months. Sure, they'd kissed multiple times and regularly called each other _'babe'_ and other such pet names. And _sure,_ they were intimate. But he still wasn't sure if Emma would be comfortable calling him-

"Your... boyfriend?" Tim asked.

Emma erred and stammered for a second before finally settling on: "Well, something like that."

Y'know what? That was better than nothing. Tim gave Paul a simple nod of acknowledgement and a _'hey'_ , which didn't give him much to work with. Paul exchanged an awkward look with Emma, seemingly prompting him to return the greeting.

"H-hey, Tim," he stuttered shyly. _Great_ first impression there, Paul. Nothing says _'cool uncle figure'_ like sheepish, nervous stammering. An uncomfortable silence washed over the group, and Paul found himself wracking his brain for things he knew about Tim based on what Emma had told him. He _needed_ a conversation topic. And then, it clicked. Something that Emma had mentioned during the _very first time_ they properly spoke. "So, uh... Emma's told me that you've got a pretty impressive collection of autographs from local supers?"

Tim's face lit up, not unlike the way Emma's often did when asked about Slack-Jaw, her six foot tall pet/sidekick Venus Flytrap monster. "Uh-huh!" he confirmed with an eager nod. His eyes briefly darted between his aunt and the floor, as though trying to choose his words carefully. "Aunt Emma's, um... met a lot of superheroes, and-"

Emma snickered playfully. "It's okay, bud, Paul knows I'm Wild Flower." she assured him.

"Oh, thank _god,_ " Tim sighed in relief, earning a few chuckles from the couple. "Glad I don't have to keep _that_ secret!"

"Mind if I see these autographs?" Paul requested, hoping he wasn't being too forward.

"Okay!" Tim complied excitedly.

"Well, while you guys do that," Tom suddenly chimed in, startling Paul. He'd honestly _forgotten_ that Tom was still in the room. "I'm gonna get started on lunch."

"Sounds good, dad!" Tim said, speaking quickly as he rushed back towards the stairwell. Tom left the living room, but Paul didn't miss the small, warm smile that had spread across his face in response to his son's enthusiasm. Tim gestured for Paul and Emma to follow. "Come on, they're in my room!"

With an exclamation of _'Oh, and don't summon Slack-Jaw indoors this time, Emma!'_ from Tom in the kitchen, Paul and Emma stood to follow Tim upstairs. Walking hand-in-hand with Emma, Paul felt his nerves begin to fade. Even if he couldn't let Tim in on his _own_ little secret, they had something to bond over! Paul felt confident. He was officially on his way to becoming Paul Matthews, mild-mannered businessman by day, revered and reclusive superhero Starfall by night, and cool uncle figure 24/7. The group of three soon came to a room at the end of the hallway on the second floor of the house, and Tim opened the door.

The room was your average nine year old boy's bedroom. Baby blue walls, plaid-patterned bedsheets, a few scattered toys on the floor... Paul further observed the room as Tim knelt down to retrieve something- presumably his autographs, from under his bed. There were a pair of worn stuffed animals on the bed, an elephant and a tiger. Paul smiled as he recalled Emma telling him about these plush toys. The elephant had belonged to Jane, and the tiger was Emma's. Trunkell and Snarl, he believed their names were? On top of those, his bookshelf appeared to contain _dozens_ of old comic books, and (much to Paul's delight) there was a Jurassic Park poster on his wall. Oh yeah. He and Tim were going to get along.

"Here they are!" Tim exclaimed, pulling a plastic Tupperware container out from under his bed. "They're in here because I don't have a better place for them yet. I'm gonna ask dad for a scrapbook for Christmas."

Paul and Emma smiled fondly at each other as they sat down on the bed, with Tim sitting between them. He opened the container to reveal several sheets of paper that Paul recognized as being from Emma's notepad. Scrawled on each paper was a different signature, many of them with accompanying messages. Paul looked through the autographs, careful not to crinkle the paper as he sifted through the various messages, some names more recognizable than others.

_"Stay vigilant, soldier. -Eagle Eye"_

_"Be safe out there, Tim! Best regards, Pulsewave <3"_

_"Glad to be watching out for you, Tim! -Mindwalker"_

_"You're the man, man. -Beambust"_

_"Stay brave, stay strong, and stay safe. From, The Web Witch (and Webby)"_

_"Allways cool 2 meet a fan! ~~Stay shady!~~ Stay safe! Ur pal, Shadow Scout"_

Not only was this very telling of just how _many_ superheroes there were in Hatchetfield (seriously, who the hell is _Shadow Scout?_ ), but it also showed with _remarkable_ efficiency how much Emma has been around in her year as a superhero. Some of these were some _seriously_ prolific supers. Eagle Eye in particular only comes around to Hatchetfield every couple of _months!_ Paul made a mental note to ask her about that later. As he continued to read over the autographs, Paul's eyes fell on a rather familiar one, and his heart swelled with happiness.

_"To Tim, thanks for being a fan! Your friend, Starfall"_

"These are all _really_ cool, Tim!" Paul spoke up after a while, fighting back his temptation to spill the beans about his secret identity right then and there.

Tim grinned delightedly. "Uh-huh," he agreed. He looked to Emma. "Maybe not as cool as the person who _got_ them for me, though."

With an exaggerated gasp, Emma put her nephew into a playful headlock and ruffled his hair, earning a fit of giggles from the boy. "Flattery will get you nowhere, little man!" she teased with a Madbolt-esque theatricality.

Paul watched the scene playing out before him with affection. He _loved_ seeing Emma's softer side. Of course, he adored her normal rough and tough take-no-shit attitude, and the elegant confidence she displayed while in the guise of Wild Flower. But something about the way she got while she was doting over Slack-Jaw, or how she liked to curl up against Paul on his living room couch after a long day of work and/or crime fighting, or the way she was goofing off with Tim right now just made Paul's heart flutter with joy. Paul continued to carefully rummage through the autographs, noticing the rather _conspicuous_ absence of a well-known name in Hatchetfield.

"Y'know," he began, catching both Tim and Emma's attention. "It's too bad that Haywire passed before Emma came back to Hatchetfield, otherwise she could've gotten _her_ autograph for you."

Paul's observation was met with a deafening silence from the two, a stark contrast to their lighthearted laughter from mere seconds ago. He looked up to see the both of them eyeing him with a sort of uncomfortable nervousness. Immediately, Paul began to fret that he'd just said the wrong thing.

"Guys?" he asked, internally _begging_ one of them to speak up.

"Paul, I... um..." Emma stammered out reluctantly, her voice the smallest Paul had ever heard it.

With nothing more than a shaky sigh, Tim stood up and approached his nightstand. He grabbed a small framed picture off of it, and handed it to Paul with a vacant look in his wide brown eyes. The photo showed what looked to be a much younger Tim with Tom and a woman Paul _vaguely_ recognized at the beach. This was Jane Perkins, Paul could tell immediately. Emma had shown him some pictures of her before. He didn't know much about her, though. She was the quote-un-quote _'Good child'_ , she was a psychiatrist, she was six years older than Emma, and- like her little sister, she was also apparently a super.

Wait...

Jane was a super that had died just last year...

And _Haywire_ was a super that had _also_ died just last year...

Emma had moved back to Hatchetfield after a decade of living in Guatemala because of Haywire's death, claiming she was worried about a superhero shortage in the town...

Oh god... How did he never realize?

"Haywire is..." Paul piped up weakly, realizing what a _dire_ mistake he just made.

"My mom." Tim finished for him, sounding small and despondent.

Paul finally looked up from the picture to see Tim, his face looking completely drained of the life it held just moments ago. Emma, on the other hand, was trembling with an almost _fearful_ glint in her eyes. She looked like she _desperately_ wanted to say something, but couldn't find the proper words.

"Emma?" Paul said with concern. "Are you-?"

"I-I'm sorry, Paul..." she huffed breathlessly, grasping at the sleeves of her jacket. "I should've told you, b-but I..."

Before she could finish her sentence, Emma stood from her spot on the bed and left the room with a brief explanation of _'I gotta go clear my head'_. Paul stood up, but his feet remained planted to their spot on the floor. He didn't know what to do. Stay and comfort Tim, and let Emma have her space? Or go and talk to Emma? The sound of a door closing came from downstairs, but it didn't sound like the front door. He looked to Tim, and returned the picture of Jane to him.

"Tim, I-"

"I-it's fine," Tim sighed, placing the photo back on his nightstand. "You didn't know."

"Are you sure?" Paul pressed meekly.

"Mhm," Tim hummed in reply. He met Paul's gaze, offering him a small, comforting smile. "You should go to Aunt Emma, she probably went out back."

"O-okay..."

With the assurance that Tim wasn't mad at him in mind, Paul rushed back downstairs. The home of the Houston family wasn't particularly _big_ , so it didn't take him long to find the back door. Though Paul had to pass through the kitchen to get to it, Tom didn't pay him any mind. He seemed too busy cooking up the grilled cheese sandwiches that they'd be eating for lunch later to notice him enter, all while classic rock blared from a retro-looking portable radio on the kitchen counter. Honestly, the music was so loud, Paul wouldn't have been surprised if Tom didn't even _hear_ him (or Emma, for that matter) come in. Paul wasn't complaining. It just meant he wouldn't be asked any questions he wasn't prepared to answer.

Paul stepped outside through the back door, and was immediately hit with a chilled breeze. But before he could heat his hands up again, he saw Emma sitting on the steps of the backyard porch. As he approached, he noticed the massive pod of Slack-Jaw lying in her lap while she gently stroked over it. Emma didn't like bringing Slack-Jaw out in colder temperatures unless she _really_ needed to, so it became clear to Paul that she needed the comfort the sweet plant creature provided her. Guilt bubbled up in Paul's chest. God, he must've fucked up _pretty badly_ this time. He sat down next to her.

"Emma?" he chimed in softly. She glanced up at him, her eyes red and puffy. Paul wanted to kick himself at that moment, but instead chose to focus on comforting Emma. "I-I'm _really_ sorry, baby, I-"

"Paul, it's fine, I just..." Emma replied, her words accompanied by a sniffle. "I really should've told you that Jane was Haywire..."

Paul noticed her shivering, and realized that it likely _wasn't_ just because of her tears. It was just under 40 degrees, after all. Wanting to provide all the comfort he could, Paul sent a wave of heat through his body, and wrapped his right arm around Emma. Thankfully, she leaned into his half-embrace, resting her head on his shoulder as she nestled in closer to his warmth. Paul absentmindedly ran his hand over Slack-Jaw's pod, savoring the fuzzy peach-like texture of the plant's head. Slack-Jaw purred contentedly under his touch, and Emma continued.

"Y'know, for _years_ I didn't wanna be a superhero," she began. "When my powers awoke, Jane was _so_ excited at the prospect of us being some kinda sister-sister crime fighting duo, but I just... didn't want anything to do with it. I just figured I'd still live in her shadow anyways, so I didn't see the point. While Jane was making headlines as this ultra-skilled technopathic teenage superhero, I was content with using my powers to grow my own shitty oregano-ass weed and talk to the ivy growing on our backyard fence."

Emma gave a humorless chuckle, and Paul gave her arm a comforting squeeze. Honestly, the notion that Emma had once rejected the idea of being a superhero gave him some semblance of reassurance. After Paul had gotten his _own_ powers, he spent nearly a month just trying to ignore them. Ignore how he often woke up hovering three feet above his bed. Ignore the random pulsing flashes of heat he'd get for seemingly _no_ reason. Ignore the fact that he could now _form stars in his hand._ It had been a fruitless endeavor, and Paul soon realized there was no such thing as a super with an ordinary life. Of course, his reasoning for initially rejecting his fate wasn't quite as strong as Emma's, but he still felt a certain connection in that aspect. Emma continued on.

"When my powers awakened, and my dad took me to the local clinic to confirm I had the Nitro Gene, the doctor said something I will _never_ forget," she mused, scratching the back of Slack-Jaw's head where his pod met the stem. "She said that Jane and I were like two sides of the same coin. While Jane could control and talk to machines, I could control and talk to plants. Jane was a technopath, and I was a florapath."

"And that just made me think 'Oh, so even though our powers are different, they're still _essentially_ the same, except Jane's are _way_ cooler?'," Emma continued. "Even our fucking _genetics_ dictated that I would always be second best."

"If it means anything," Paul interjected. "I think the ability to control plants is pretty fucking cool."

Emma snickered, lightly squeezing his thigh. "Even so, the only reason I decided to _finally_ hone my powers when I came back was because I felt like I _had_ to," she explained, a sob catching in her throat. Paul held her a little closer. "And then, people started praising 'Wild Flower', and I thought 'Wait, people actually _like me_ now?'. So I kept at the whole superhero thing, soaking in all the praise and love I got whenever I wore that _fucking_ costume."

Paul felt a tear trickle onto his sweater. "Jane became a superhero because she wanted to help people, and I became a superhero so I'd hate myself less," Emma wept, causing Slack-Jaw to nuzzle against her with a concerned grumble. "How goddamn _pathetic_ is that?"

"Hey, I've heard of people becoming superheroes for _way_ worse reasons!" Paul retorted, his voice firm and sincere. "You could've been like Rush Hour. Only stopping crime when he's _paid_ to do so, and working for supervillains more often than not!"

Emma laughed into Paul's shoulder, sounding genuine and bubbly despite her tears. "God, _fuck_ Rush Hour!" she exclaimed.

"Fuck him!" Paul agreed enthusiastically, gently jostling Emma, who simply responded with more laughter.

The two spent another minute like that, laughing and holding each other. Just enjoying their company. After they calmed down, Emma snapped her fingers and Slack-Jaw sunk back into the dirt, leaving just the two supers alone in the backyard. Emma stood up, and made her way to the center of the yard.

"Still, it makes me wonder what Jane would say if she could see me now." she sighed, the discontented tone returning to her voice.

"I bet she'd be proud of you!" Paul attempted to assure her. "I mean, shit, better late than never, right?"

Emma scoffed. "Maybe, but Jane was like the biggest superhero in Hatchetfield," she retorted glumly. "If we'd been able to team up now, I'd just be her dumb little sidekick. The Robin to her Batman."

"Now that's quite enough of that kinda talk," Paul playfully threatened, standing from his spot on the steps. "Any more self-deprecation from you, and you're gonna be sorry."

Emma snorted, but didn't turn to face Paul. "Oh yeah? What're you gonna do, tough guy?"

_"This!"_

Before Emma had the chance to turn around, Paul rushed forward and swept her off her feet, using his powers of flight to lift them _both_ off the ground. Paul flew straight up, carrying them _just_ over the roof of Tom's house as Emma cackled wildly in his arms. Holding her close and tightly, he spun around mid-air, peppering Emma's face with kisses for good measure.

_"Paul!"_ she squealed, batting his face away. "Put me down! People are gonna see us!"

"Okay, okay!" Paul complied with an exaggerated groan that was soon cut off by his own laughter. He slowly floated back down so that he was hovering only a foot off the ground, but didn't release Emma from his grasp. Instead he maneuvered himself so that he was hovering in a sitting position, and shuffled the still-giggling Emma into his lap. "How's this?"

"Better," she sighed, cuddling closer to his chest. "I needed that."

"Then I'd be happy to do it anytime."

Paul continued to hold her, still floating above ground as he fiddled with the soft locks of hair that stuck out of her beanie. He _knew_ Emma liked flying with him. She loved the adrenaline rush that came with speeding just above the city, or coursing across the lake. Late night flights weren't _nearly_ as lonely with her. They were certainly _louder_ , as she had a tendency to whoop and laugh in his ear while they flew, but Paul didn't care. As long as Emma was happy, _Paul_ was happy. After another minute or so, Paul finally let his feet touch the ground, and set Emma down. And as if on cue, the back door opened to reveal...

"Tim!" Emma exclaimed. "You, uh... you doin' okay, bud?"

"Yeah, don't worry, I'm fine," Tim replied. Paul searched the boy's face for _any_ sign that he may be lying about his emotional state, but thankfully his expression was perfectly content. "What about you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine now," Emma assured him. "Did you need us for something?"

"Dad says lunch is ready."

Emma perked up. "Great, we'll be there in a minute!"

Tim nodded and turned to head back inside, but Paul had something on his mind. "Oh, uh... Tim?" he called after the boy, who stopped in his tracks and whirled around to face them once more. "How much of what just happened did you see?"

Tim snickered. "It's _okay,_ Paul, I _know_ you're Starfall," he said, shaking his head. Paul and Emma looked to each other, stunned completely silent. When they couldn't bring themselves to reply, Tim elaborated. "Come on, I've _seen_ the news, you guys. It's not like I didn't know Aunt Emma had teamed up with Starfall. It's pretty obvious."

Now that Paul thought about it, it was _pretty_ stupid of them to have assumed that Tim wouldn't catch on. Hell, over half of Hatchetfield was already under the completely correct impression that 'Wild Flower' and 'Starfall' were together, so Paul had _no idea_ why they assumed they could pull the wool over Tim's eyes. Paul and Emma both broke into disbelieving laughter.

"Sorry about that, bud..." Emma giggled, pinching the bridge of her nose in embarrassment.

"It's alright," Tim said, joining the two in their laughter. "Your secret's safe with me."

And with that, the three headed back inside. Despite the rocky introduction, Paul was still confident. He was Paul Matthews, mild-mannered businessman by day, revered and reclusive superhero Starfall by night, and soon-to-be cool uncle figure to Tim Houston 24/7.

**Author's Note:**

> If some of those superhero names from Tim's autographs sounded interesting to you, well, just hold tight. You'll be meeting some of them in the next oneshot in this series ;) Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this installment of the Heroes of Hatchetfield AU! Comment are _very much_ appreciated!


End file.
